Page 17 of Charmed By Destiny

“Nice to meet you, Lucas,” David commented as he extended a dainty hand without making any eye contact. Some instinct Luke immediately trusted told him to tread carefully around the shy man.

“Thanks for having me as a guest,” Luke responded with the briefest of handshakes.

“Can we get you something to drink?” Clark asked. “We have beer, wine, or between David and Richard, they can mix you up about anything.”

“An event planner and a mixologist, huh?” Luke asked Richard.

Richard shrugged. “I like to learn things that interest me. We also have non-alcoholic options, if you prefer.”

“Like milk,” Eric replied with a gagging gesture.

“Ignore him, he doesn’t know what’s good,” Richard said. “He eats cereal dry.”

“I think you’re the one who doesn’t know what’s good,” Luke countered. “Cereal tastes better dry.” Luke didn’t mention that he’d learned to eat it that way because he could rarely afford to buy milk and cereal together. Thankfully, he liked it, and he could buy big generic-brand bags of it to keep his tummy full when things were especially lean.

“Keep it up and you’ll be lucky if I fetch you anything but a doggy bag with your meal inside it,” Richard taunted Luke.

The sass was a surprise, and Luke immediately approved.

“Richard, be nice,” Rosalind chided. “Lucas, ignore him. He was born with an acid tongue. What will you have?”

Since it was inappropriate for Luke to go with the voice in his head demanding that he get more familiar with Richard’s tongue, he slapped a grin on his face as he privately wondered what Richard tasted like. “A beer would be great, thanks so much.”

“I’ll grab one for you,” Gabe said.

“While our Gabriel gets your drink, why don’t you have a seat and tell us a bit about yourself,” Rosalind invited.

Luke plopped onto a black sofa with striped pillows and ignored the tension between his shoulder blades. Talking about himself was not desirable, but the Marwoods were providing him with everything.

“Well, I was resurrected ten years ago, and since then my necro and I have drifted around,” Luke remarked, happy to stick with the truth for once. “I wanted financial security, and we learned from a passing necro about your family. I took a chance that he was being honest and called. Now I’m here, and I’ve spent a week learning the ropes from Richard, Douglas, and their staff.”

“Are you enjoying event planning?” Clark asked as Gabe returned. He’d ditched his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. Luke took the beer and thanked him.

“Yes, I’m learning so much, and I’m curious to experience every aspect of my job,” Luke answered. But could he stay? If Foxe learned Luke had sat in a room with a destiny-touched necromancer or that one was related to the Marwoods, he’d likely insist that they end this little experiment. Disappointment settled into Luke’s bones. He’d barely started his journey at the Marwood resort, and he didn’t want to leave. What was the likelihood of Luke coming to any harm?

Eric didn’t work at the casino, or at least their paths had never crossed until now. If Eric wasn’t around, how could any potential danger find him? Luke needed his job to offer stability to his life and Foxe’s.

Going to sleep in the same bed every night was lovely. A little more than a week had passed since Luke had first met the Marwoods, and he was already growing addicted to the routine of having a normal job. Luke hadn’t known he wanted a steady paycheck and some semblance of calm until this opportunity had literally landed in his lap.

Was he willing to give it up because of the potential of danger around a destiny-touched necromancer he barely knew? Luke’s gaze slid over to the enticing Richard. Why did the thought of leaving Richard behind forever fill him with a desperate kind of gloom?

Luke wasn’t ready to walk away. Foxe was his best friend, but he didn’t need to know everything. He’d wait to tell Foxe about the destiny-touched Marwood until it was necessary. The omission would go unnoticed by Foxe, and both he and Luke needed to make the most of this opportunity.

Without the Marwoods, their lives would be forever frozen in an endless cycle of running. Luke was tired of it. He damn well refused to return to it until he had no other choice.

Trying not to think about another night in a shitty motel or being woken up in the wee hours of the morning to flee yet again, Luke nursed his beer.

“Lucas, are you seeing anyone?” Rosalind asked.

It took considerable effort to swallow his drink, as his instinct was to spit it out over the expensive furniture, but Luke managed it. Where the hell had that question come from?

“Ignore my mother,” Richard stated sharply. “She’s a nosy busybody, and you aren’t required to tell us anything about your private life.”

“Richard, behave yourself, I was being polite,” Rosalind retorted.

Richard slapped a hand against his own chest. “Behavemyself?” he cried.

The doorbell nearly drowned out Eric’s laughter.

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